I'll Cry Instead
by Beatlesfan60
Summary: It's 1965 and Paul McCartney meets a very special woman. What happens when he asks her to join the Beatles on tour? And how does Jane Asher feel about the whole thing? Rated T just to be safe. Enjoy!
1. I've Just Seen A Face

**1965**

_Here we go again._

Paul smiled as several girls dressed in short leather skirts and fish-net leggings approached his table. Their smiles were wide and desperate and it made him sick. He was expected to choose one of these nutcases to take him back to their place and shag? Though he usually didn't mind, Paul just wasn't in the mood tonight.

"Hi," greeted one of the girls, twirling her hair and stepping closer towards his table.

"Hello." He said flatly as he took a sip from his bottle of beer.

"My name's Elise," said another as she stepped up, lightly pushing the other woman aside.

"Elise," He nodded his head and again drank his beer.

"My name's Beth," another blonde came into the picture, holding a bottle of beer herself. Paul nodded his head once again, but didn't say a word. He simply leaned back in his chair and studied his nails. It was silent for a moment as the girls finally grasped the fact that he did not want them to be here. Slowly each one of them wandered away, back to the excitement and fun that was this club.

He would've brought the others along in hopes of lifting his spirits, but he felt like he needed to be alone. All he needed to do was ignore the stares of random people and the flashes of the cameras going on around him, pay no attention to the people screaming 'He's a Beatle!', 'Mr. McCartney!', 'I love you, Paul!', and at least _try_ to have fun tonight. But it felt nearly impossible.

Paul didn't know how the fight even started. It was hard to believe it happened just an hour or so ago. At one moment, he was setting the table for his dinner with Jane. The next thing he knew, he was throwing the damned plate against the wall, shattering it to a million pieces. And then he ended up here, in a nightclub planning to drink away whatever anger and pain he felt.

He and Jane Asher were such a lovely couple. The 'it' couple, as the press called it. Jane was this wonderful, successful, beautiful actress and he was, well, he was a Beatle. Once this relationship started, the media went into a frenzy.

It was a shame, however, that they just couldn't bare each other at times. At one point, they were perfectly happy, wrapped in each other's arms and smiling and kissing. Then, they would be at each other's throats, screaming, cursing, wishing the other would just fall down a bloody cliff. The whole 'happy couple' look they had was, Paul realized, simply an act. Because everything Paul did, said, and wanted was wrong. Nothing satisfied her. And they couldn't agree on _anything_. But there was always something that made them get back together again, no matter how bad or physical the fight got. And that drove Paul insane.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Why was it that every one of these people in the club could be having such a good time while he sat there feeling like absolute crap? He missed the first time he met Jane, when everything felt like it was perfectly in place. Apparently, not everything lasts as long as you want it to.

Paul felt every eye on him as he stood up and made his way out of the club. Why was he even here in the first place? He didn't want to get wasted this time, though he was half way there, and he didn't want to find himself waking up in the morning in some strange bird's bed. So he decided to leave. But he couldn't go back to the place he shared with Jane. That would be disastrous. So where to go?

He lighted himself a ciggie as he walked down the streets of London. The stares and the screams were enough to make a man go mad, but he was used to it. After all, Beatlemania was just a daily thing for him.

He looked down at the pavement, thinking about the night's events, the look on Jane's face and, most importantly, what he was going to say tomorrow to make up for it. He was so caught up in this that he didn't even notice a woman, who was intently reading some papers, walking his way. Too much in his way that is, for she ran right smack into him.

"Ow!" He yelled out as his head knocked against hers, causing him to step backwards in order to keep from falling. She almost fell over completely, all the papers in her hands scattering around her. To make matters worse, the sidewalk was almost completely wet due to the rain just a little while ago.

"Oh my god!" She shouted as she quickly tried to pick up the papers. She looked hopelessly at one seeing as it was soaked by water. Paul started helping her pick up the papers almost immediately and noticed they were letters.

"I'm sorry," he apologized as he handed her the others. "I hope they weren't important."

"They were," she said in almost an inaudible whisper.

"Were they?" he asked now feeling as though he had shattered this poor girl, according to the look on her face.

She shook her head. "It's alright. Wasn't your fault."

"But it was," Paul said. He noticed that she was looking straight into his eyes, but not a single shriek or even a sense of embarrassment and nervousness came from her. He was sure she would've recognized him by now, right?

"Don't worry about it." She shrugged, smiled and began to walk away.

"Wait!" He called.

She turned around, a confused look spread across her face. "Yeah?"

"I didn't get your name."

"Jackie." She answered simply.

"Well, Jackie, I'm Paul. Paul McCartney." He stated proudly as he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Paul."

He noticed she was beginning to walk away again and, normally, he would've let her go. But something made him want to talk to her more, get to know her. "Hold on," Paul grabbed her arm, holding her back.

She turned around once more, and Paul hoped he wasn't annoying her too much. "Yes?"

"Those letters, I really am sorry about them."

She laughed a little. "I said it was alright, didn't I?"

"Maybe I can make it up to you...." He told her.

"How so?"

He pointed to a fancy restaurant down the street. "I can buy you dinner, if you like."

She shook her head. "Oh, that's ok. You don't have to,"

"But I want to."

Jackie sighed and was about to decline the offer once more but Paul got a hold of her hand and pulled her along to the restaurant. "Hey, wait..." She began but it was too late, they were already there.

And Paul was determined to get to know this girl.

**~Well, here's another one. And yes, it'll be **_**another**_** love story. So, I hope you liked it so far. I'm still continuing on the Ballad of George and Lori but I thought I would write another one for the fun of it. :) Comment on what you think!~**


	2. If I Needed Someone

_**Had you come some other day, it might not have been like this. But you see now I'm too much in love.**_

_**

* * *

**_

"Table for two, please." Paul said kindly and smiled to the waitress at the restaurant. Her face turned pink as she nodded and led them through the crowded area. Sudden squeals could be heard by some girls at the nearby tables and Paul could feel every eye in the room looking towards him. He hoped this wasn't affecting Jackie in any way.

"Here you are," said the waitress as she placed them in a small booth and handed them their menus. "I'll be back in a while." She left the table rather rapidly.

Jackie studied the menu in silence for a moment while Paul simply looked at her. "Do you know what you want?" She asked finally, looking up.

"Uh," Paul hadn't even looked at the menu yet. "No. Do you?"

"I'm not really all that hungry, to be honest." Jackie told him.

"Oh. I'll just order a few drinks then. Do you like wine?" Paul asked.

"I do."

Paul called the waitress back and ordered themselves a bottle of wine to share. The waitress hurried back to the kitchen quickly, her face still a deep shade of pink. "Back to her cave." Paul said, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Do all girls act like that around you?" Jackie asked him.

"Well, of course. There's not much more you can expect when you're a Beatle," he replied.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot."

Paul smiled. "You're not serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, because..."

"There's nothing really great about celebrities," Jackie told him.

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why's that?"

"Well, they're only people. People with very much talent and an enormous amount of luck, but people nonetheless,"

Paul nodded.

"Besides, I don't see the point in girls fainting and screaming their brains out for a group of 'four lads from Liverpool.'"

"You don't?"

"'Course not. It's stupid."

Paul eyed her for a moment. "You're somethin' else."

"Because I don't act like the rest of 'em?" Jackie said with a half smile, taking a sip from her wine.

"No, you act exactly like the rest of 'em," Paul told her.

"Do I?" she asked, confused.

Paul nodded. "Acting like you're the 'unique one,' acting like you could care less about the Beatles when, in reality, you probably have all the records and dozens of posters hanging from your bedroom wall. Right?" He took a drink from his own wineglass.

"Oh yes, Paul McCartney, you caught me," Jackie began sarcastically. "Shall I take you to this magical Beatles room of mine for an epic adventure?"

"Depends what you mean by adventure, luv." Paul said, taking on a sort of naughty expression.

Jackie seemed disgusted. "Well, _luv_," she said mockingly, "if that's what you want, I'll be on my way."

"Hold on," Paul said, once he saw she was serious. "I was only messin' around."

"Let's hope." Jackie said.

The table was silent for a minute or two, both drinking their wines. Paul studied her, her face, her body. Her shoulder-length blonde hair, styled in the latest women's hairstyle of the year, complete with bangs hanging just above her green eyes. She was tall and thin but her black, Jacqueline Kennedy-style dress suited her perfectly. He had just ran into this girl, literally, only moments before and he was suddenly so interested. "Tell me," Paul began. "That accent, American is it?"

"Obviously," Jackie answered, smiling again.

"Where in particular?" He asked curiously.

"Florida."

Paul grinned. "Really? We went to Miami last year, it was wonderful. The sun, y'know. Really nice."

"It's alright, I guess. More for a vacation than an actual living area."

Paul nodded. "I see. The mansions there are beautiful, though."

"As would they be anywhere else. They're mansions after all, y'know."

Paul leaned on the table. "Do you usually become a smartass around others, or is it just for me?"

"Nah, I tend to do that to everyone. Don't worry, you're not special." She told him.

"Ouch. Does this mean I'm not your preferred Beatle?"

"George Harrison is much cuter." Jackie said with a half smile.

Paul gasped dramatically. "Lies!"

Jackie was in the process of taking another drink from her wineglass but erupted into laughter at Paul's reaction, almost spilling it, which caused Paul to laugh along with her. "Don't do that!" She said, wiping her mouth. As Jackie looked around, she saw everyone was enviously staring at her. She hadn't noticed that all of the tables around them were occupied by several teenage girls. They had obviously insisted on having the table right next to a Beatle. Typical. "Is it scary having teenage girls practically obsess over you?"

Paul shrugged. "Not after a while it isn't. It's quite flattering actually." He waved at group of six girls at the table to his left and they immediately went into a fit of giggles.

"I see." Jackie said, looking down at the table.

"Why?" Paul smiled. "Does it bother you?"

"Why would it _possibly _bother me?" She answered, taken aback.

He grinned. "I dunno. Maybe you just want me for yourself." He said seductively.

"Alright," she said, standing up. "Goodbye, Mr. McCartney." Jackie immediately began to walk away.

"Woah, wait," Paul dug into his pocket, put down some money, which he didn't even bother to count, on the table and ran quickly after her out into the dark, busy street. "Hold on," He said but she ignored him. Paul grabbed her arm, causing her to stop and turn around.

"What is it?" She practically yelled.

"What the hell did I do?" Paul asked.

"Nothing. I'm just going back home!"

"You look mad. Did I say something wrong?" Paul wanted to know.

"Can you please just let me go?" Jackie pleaded.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong!" She yelled.

Paul sighed. "Fine. If nothing's wrong, then why don't you take me to your place?"

"What? No!" Jackie said.

"Then there's obviously something wrong." Paul looked into her eyes, trying to figure it out.

"Why can't you just go back to your house?"

"Let's just say, I don't think it's all that safe to go back,"

"Why not?"

Paul shrugged. "Jane's a bitch." He heard himself say. Oops, he'd regret that later.

Jackie gasped. "Jane Asher? Oh I love her!"

"Right." He said simply.

Jackie paused for a minute. "You got into a fight then?"

"It's a long story." Paul walked over to a sitting bench and sighed deeply. "It's too bad, because I'm going to have to sleep on this dirty ol' bus bench tonight. Alone, cold, hungry. And all because a seemingly sweet woman wouldn't let me rest at her place..." He said these words as dramatically as possible, hoping she'd change her mind.

Jackie rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic."

"And I'm also homeless. Unless..." Paul smiled at her and fluttered his eyelashes.

Jackie looked at him, her arms crossed and soon rolled her eyes once again as she heard herself say, "Well, c'mon then."

**~Sorry for the wait. And now you know what I'm going to say: "Oh yeah guys, I'll update much sooner, I promise!" Yeah, I'll TRY to update sooner. Maybe if I could get my lazy arse to get over writer's block and start typing...but I can't promise THAT much, now can I? But anyway, thanks for reading. I did take the name 'Jackie' from Jackie Kennedy (John F. Kennedy's wife) because I really loved her dresses (yes, stupid, I know), if you were wondering. Not that any of you were, probably. ANYROAD, all of you shall now comment. ...Please? :)~**


	3. I've Got A Feeling

**_All these years I've been wandering around, wondering how come nobody told me. All that I was looking for was somebody who looked like you._**

**_

* * *

_**

Since it was only a few blocks away from the restaurant, they had arrived a little after midnight. Paul looked around curiously as he stepped into the small house. It looked clean and cozy, much like the home he shared with Jane.

_Jane. _As much as he tried not to, he kept thinking about her. It was like she was invading his mind, enough to make a man go mad. But he was here, with Jackie, and he couldn't let that stupid little thought get to him. Not yet. Tomorrow maybe, but not now.

"Would you like some tea?" Jackie asked from the kitchen.

"Huh?" He asked stupidly.

"Tea, would you like some? I heard the English that stuff." She said, stepping out of the kitchen and watching Paul.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." He nodded.

"Alright, have a seat then." Jackie said. Paul nodded once more and sat on the tan couch, crossing his legs and staring at the ground. He wondered if Jane was possibly thinking about him now. He knew she was really mad at him and she was probably pacing around their bedroom at that very moment, wondering where the hell he was and why he hadn't called. But she knew him far too well to know that he would not be arriving that night, begging for her forgiveness. Or the next few nights, for that matter. Because when they got into an argument as bad as this one, which was happening a lot lately, it was like Paul had disappeared off the face of the earth. But that didn't prevent him from being a nervous wreck, though.

"That finger of yours is going to bleed sooner or later." Jackie said, sitting next to him, putting two cups of tea on the small table in front of them.

"What?" He asked, but then noticed that he had been terribly biting at his nail. "Oh yeah. I've tried to quit that. It's a nervous habit, see. I've been-"

"Nervous? What are you nervous about?" She interrupted.

"What? Oh, nothing just..." Paul answered quickly, "nothing." His finger found its way to his mouth once again.

"Is it about you and Jane?" She asked.

"No," he lied pathetically. "It's not."

"Well," Jackie began, taking a sip from her tea. "You did say something happened between you two."

"It's nothing." He said, copying her action and filling his mouth with the boiling drink.

"Can you tell me?"

"It's nothing." Paul repeated.

Jackie paused and watched him for a moment. "Please?" She pleaded innocently.

Paul sighed. He knew he might as well tell her since she was the one he currently relied on for a place to stay. "Jane and I got into a small argument, that's all."

"Well, I know that much. How small?" She was prepared to listen intently to what he had to say, taking short sips from her tea.

"A big kind of small?" Paul bit his bottom lip.

"Makes sense," Jackie chuckled. "Considering you couldn't even return to her."

He shrugged and shook his head. "You can't blame me, though."

"Then tell me what happened."

"It's stupid," He said. "I mean, we were doing so well. We hadn't had a fight for days. It seemed like we were getting better..."

"That's funny, you seem like the perfect couple to me."

"And where'd you get that from? The papers?" Paul asked.

"Well, yes." She answered honestly.

"Of course. Let the reader assume that everything's fine, right?"

"Hey, don't blame me, I don't know what happens when you two aren't in the spotlight." Jackie said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"I don't blame you. I blame the damned reporters!"

"Just go on." She told him.

Paul looked straight ahead of him. "The problem with Jane is she has to come first all the time. It's selfish of her, really." He looked down at his hands and whispered, "I don't know how the hell I put up with it."

"Oh I'm sure she doesn't _always _put herself first." Jackie said calmly, sipping her tea. Paul's sudden, angry outburst made her jump, causing bits of the liquid to drip down on her carpet.

"She does! Her stupid acting career has to come first, even if it gets in the way of _our _relationship! You'd think a good girlfriend would pass up a meaningless audition for her man but, oh no, not Miss Asher!" Paul yelled, his face growing red.

"Shh," Jackie tried to calm him. "How's it getting in the way of your relationship?"

Paul took in a deep breath. "We're supposed to leave soon, on tour y'know. But that same week she has some sort of audition to go to. If she chooses that over coming with us, I wont see her for at least five months. Five months! Not including the days for filming the movie she's auditioning for. That's almost a year! You know what that would do to our relationship?"

"I'm sure you can fix it." She reassured him.

"No, you don't understand. I told her I can't wait for her for that long. If she really loved me, she would drop that audition and come with us to America for the tour. But apparently, it's not going to happen."

"But it's her career..."

"She's got plenty of other opportunities!" Paul shouted, turning to her. Jackie looked away and spoke quietly.

"Have you talked about it?"

He sighed. "I brought it up while we were about to have dinner tonight. I tried talking her out of it, telling her that I can get her another break with some other director, that this definitely wasn't the audition of a lifetime. But she got angry with me and kicked me out." Paul explained. Alright, so he didn't mention a few things. Like how he got angry with her first, trying to bring Jane down in order to change her mind. Or the throwing of objects in a blind rage. But she didn't have to know that much, did she?

"Well, you know what I think?" She said, standing up and picking up the teacups. "I think you should apologize. Both you and her. Then you go on your tour, she goes to her audition and everyone's happy. When you see each other again, see if things work out between you two and if it doesn't then I'm sure plenty of other people would love to be you and Jane's new partner." She looked at him and smiled and walked away.

Paul watched her disappear into the kitchen, thinking about what she just said. He didn't want to apologize to Jane, he always waited for her to apologize to him first. Even then he wouldn't apologize, he would just go along with everything and make her think he's alright with the entire thing. Hell, he didn't know what to do. Maybe he should follow Jackie's advice and see if everything works out in the end. But even he couldn't deny that things would not work out too well for them.

_You're worrying too much about this, _Paul thought. _It's not even worth it._

"Here you are," Jackie said, appearing once again with a blanket and pillow. "There's no guest room here, so you'll have to sleep on the couch tonight."

Paul nodded. "That's fine." He helped her adjust the blanket and pillow on the couch.

Afterwards, Paul and Jackie sat down on his little 'bed' and began to talk. Paul really enjoyed talking to her and it surprised him how easily they could get along and how comfortable he was around her. He told her things about the Beatles that no one else knew, how it was like to tour with them, what they really thought of the fans and reporters, what they like to do in the hotel rooms while they're imprisoned in there. Jackie told him that her life was pretty normal at the moment, nothing out of the ordinary. She said that she was indeed a fan of the Beatles, but she thought the way some girls acted around them was absurd. She also told him about her job as a photographer for a local newspaper back in Florida and how she even took pictures of them while they visited Miami last year.

"If you live in America, then why do you have a house here in London?" Paul asked.

"Oh, this isn't actually my house. This was my dad's old house, but now that my mom's gone, he moved into our house in Florida to be with me and still owns this one. I came back here by myself to visit some family." She explained.

"Ah, I see. Where'd your mum go?" He asked.

"She's dead." Jackie told him calmly, her expression impassive.

"Oh," Paul looked at his hands, ashamed at his question. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, but your mom is too, right? So you know how I feel." Jackie watched him carefully as his expression went from regretful to hurtful.

"Uh huh." He said quietly, not looking up. He really didn't want to discuss this topic, anything but this. "I didn't know your family was from England." He quickly changed the subject.

"Oh yeah, everyone on my dad's side is. So after he and my mom divorced, he moved over here to be closer with his family. I love it, really. Every summer when I was a kid, I'd visit England and my grandparents would show me around. I love it here." Jackie smiled.

"Yeah, I like it here too. Well, anywhere but Liverpool, of course." Paul winked.

She laughed. "Really?"

"Nah," Paul smiled. "It's alright."

"I visited Liverpool once, back in the 1957 or so with my cousins. I thought it was great."

"I think it's great, too. Well, I didn't really think much of it when I lived there as a kid but after going away for months on tour and recording, I turned out missing it a lot."

"I don't know how you do it, being away from home for so long. I'm only here for a month or two at the most. After that, I need to go back." She told him.

Paul was about to say something but stopped immediately, realization striking. After being with this girl for nearly half of the night, doing nothing but talking (which was very uncommon of him, in this situation), he knew this would probably be the last time he'd ever see her again. Normally, he would just deal with it and make the most out of the time he spends with her. But he didn't want her to go, he wanted to spend more time with her, get to know her better. He felt like he had met this girl for a reason, and he shouldn't let her leave. But they were leaving on tour in 3 days and there was nothing he could do. Unless...

"Come on tour with us."

**~Wow, i just noticed how long this chapter was... well anyway: *cue suspenseful music* Yeah, so that ending sucked but don't hang me for it, ok? And don't worry, the other Beatles will be making guest appearances very soon! They're supposed to be on 'break' or something, but they'll be going on their 1965 American tour soon. But I'm sure you all figured that one out already... *cough* Anyroad! Please, please, please review! I want to know what you really think. And it can be positive or negative (though I'd much rather have positive reviews, ehem), just as long as I get at least some feedback. So yeah, I'm gonna shutup now and go back to my cave. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!~**


	4. I Want To Tell You

_**I want to tell you. My head is filled with things to say.**_

_**

* * *

**_

"What?" Jackie asked, though she obviously knew what he meant.

"Come on tour with us." Paul repeated. Clearly, he wasn't thinking. How could he possibly ask this girl, this _stranger_, to join the Beatles on tour? But a part of him couldn't help it, he needed her to come.

She laughed a bit, as if it were a joke. Which she took it as such. "Yeah, right."

"Really. I want you to come with us."

Jackie was still laughing, unable to take him seriously. Was he for real? Her, on tour, with them? This was hysterical! But once she got a glimpse at his waiting expression, waitingfor her to actually accept such a ridiculous offer, her smile quickly faded. He really was serious. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh, c'mon. I told you it's an American tour, you can show us around. It'll be great!" He said, obviously growing excited by the thought.

"Paul..."

"It'll be great!" He repeated. "Really, it'll be perfect."

"I don't think..."

"What? Do you not want to go?" He asked, looking rather surprised.

"No, no. I want to, I guess. It's just, well, I just...I can't!" Jackie said, shaking her head quickly.

"Give me one good reason why you can't." Paul said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I've got things to do!"

"Like what?"

"Like..." she looked down at a picture of her grandmother on the table beside her, "I have to watch my grandma! She's getting old, y'know."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure. Come with us and risk her death!"

"Hey!" Jackie pointed a finger at him. "That's not funny!"

"It wasn't supposed to be!" Paul sighed. "Look, please just come with us? It's only a few months. And what better is there to do here than join the bloody Beatles on tour?"

Jackie bit her lip as she thought of what to do. She knew it would be such a great experience. How many girls around the world would die to even meet a Beatle? And here she was, having an entire conversation with Paul freaking McCartney and now _he_ was asking _her _to join the Beatles on _tour_. Things like that don't happen on a regular basis.

Paul looked at her with big, hopeful, hazel eyes. Which, she now realized, were incredibly stunning. "Well?"

She studied him for a second, wondering if she could trust him enough to accept the offer. Slowly, Jackie nodded her head. "Alright."

She had never seen someone smile so big. "Really?" He asked and she nodded. "Great! We leave in three days or so, I'll pick you up to go to the airport, alright?"

Jackie stood up and nodded once more. "Ok."

He grinned at her. "It'll be fun."

"Aren't tours supposed to be boring, though? For you guys at least." She asked. She took photos for a newspaper once with the cover story being of the Beatles. She read a quote of them saying that touring wasn't always a pleasure, but it was their career so they had to do it. Or something like that. But they didn't make it sound all that exciting. How could they? One of her close friends, Susan was it? She claimed she went to a Beatles show over in Palm Beach, Florida. Said she could barely hear a word the boys said due to all the screaming by maniac teenage girls. Jackie couldn't even imagine how awful it would be for a musician to go through that, over half of the people going to your shows only there to _see _you and not _hear_ you.

Paul shrugged. "It's a drag sometimes but having you around should make it better, I suppose."

Jackie smiled. She would take that as a compliment. "Alright, well, it's about 1.30 in the morning. I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed."

Paul scrunched up his nose. He really didn't want to go to sleep. "Can't we stay up for five more minutes?"

"Now, young man, you need your sleep. You hear?" Jackie said, putting on a sarcastic, motherly tone. "I won't put up with your groggy attitude in the morning. Plus, you'll wake up late and miss the bus! I can't have that, Paul, I just can't!" She put the back of her hand over her forehead in a distressed manner.

He gasped. "Not the bus!"

They both laughed. "Goodnight, Paul." She said but before she could walk away, Paul caught her hand and pulled her back.

"What, no hug?"

She smiled. "Nah."

"But I wouldn't be able to go to sleep," he said, giving a fake pout.

Jackie sighed, rolled her eyes, and leaned in to give him a small hug. But, of course, Paul didn't want just a hug. So he quickly moved his head to the side and met her lips for the first time. Jackie quickly pulled away, surprised.

"There," he said, smiling, "now I can go to sleep."

* * *

3.20 in the morning. Paul just laid on the 'bed' of his in Jackie's living room and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, making random shapes there and humming some tune he thought up a few minutes ago. Usually, Paul would get very cranky when he couldn't sleep and would toss and turn, much to Ringo's despair since he shared a room with him on tour. But now, he was grinning like a loon.

Jackie was going. She was going on tour with them. And Paul couldn't be happier. She would like it, he knew it. And none of the press had a clue who she was so he'd be able to put on a disguise, take her out, and no one would even notice! And when they visited Florida, she could show him her house and around her neighborhood. And he could meet her dad and her friends. He knew he would come off as some sort of creeper, but he really couldn't care less. It would be like they've known each other for the longest time once the tour ended, and that was good enough for him.

He continued to think about the next few months, going on and planning things like an idiot. Paul decided to check the clock again and groaned when it read 3.30 am. He was never going to get a proper sleep at this rate. So he decided upon doing what he did best on sleepless nights. He rose from the couch and walked towards a small table to his left, which held a telephone. He picked it up and began to dial the number.

"Hmm..." answered the sleepy voice on the other line.

"Hello, John! How are ye, mate?" Paul greeted cheerfully.

"Macca? What the hell do you want? It's the middle of the bleedin' night!"

"I know. I just can't sleep, you see." Paul told him, twisting the phone's chord with his index finger.

"So you decide to bother me?" John said in annoyance, more like a statement than an actual question.

"Oh but of course, good sir!" Paul answered in a mocking, Queen's English accent.

He could almost feel John rolling his eyes on the other line. "What's goin' on?" He asked with a sigh. "You with not sleepin' and all that."

Paul smiled. "I want to bring someone on tour with us."

"Aren't you bringin' that whore of a girlfriend you've got?"

"No," Paul said. "She chose to go about with that audition instead."

"Stupid whore."

"Yeah, well, I'm bringin' someone else."

"And who's that now?" John asked.

"A girl."

"A girl?"

"Yes, a girl." Paul said.

John sighed. "And did you just meet this girl, Paul?"

"Uh huh."

He laughed. "You're so daft."

Paul frowned. "Oh?"

"Just let me go back to sleep."

"Wait! I'm serious, though!"

"No you aren't. Or you shouldn't be, at least." John yawned.

Paul sighed in frustration. "Well I wouldn't be callin' you at three in the mornin' if I wasn't, would I?"

"You shouldn't be callin' me at three in the mornin' anyway!"

"Really, John." Paul said quietly after a moment of pause.

"You just met her, Paul." John pointed out.

"So? I like her."

"Yeah and you also liked the bird from last week. And the week before that. Would you like to bring them on tour, as well?" John said sarcastically.

"I'm serious!"

"I can't believe you're trying to bring in some random bird. It's hard enough having to deal with that annoying cow of yours everyday. I really don't need another Jane Asher laggin' around!"

"No, she's different!" Paul tried to keep his voice down in hopes of not waking Jackie upstairs.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure she's just peachy-keen."

"She is. It's different."

"Of course it is, Paulie, luv. Now go back to sleep before daddy comes home. It's way past your bedtime!"

"John!" Paul moaned. "C'mon, I need your approval so you can back me up when Brian says 'no'!"

"Well, I wouldn't blame 'im if he did!" John said. Dammit. Paul would've sworn that would do the trick. John never backed down when it came to fighting against Eppy.

"Just...just please? I really like her, John. Please?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" John asked, unable to believe Paul's pleading tone. Practically _begging. _What the hell was this?

"No, 'm not."

John paused for a while, then let out a long sigh, "Ok, alright. Fine."

Paul grinned. "Yes! Thank you, John! I owe you one, yeah?"

"Hell yeah you do," John replied. "Brian's a bitch when we ask him for shite, y'know."

"Yes, but he's in love with your arse, so I need you on me side."

"In love with my arse he is, Macca. In more ways than one."

"How disturbing." Paul chuckled.

John shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Yeah, should be. 'Specially after that 'honeymoon' in Spain, hmm?"

"Shurrup!"

Paul laughed. "Sensitive, aye?"

"Go to sleep."

And with that John immediately hung up, going back to his peaceful slumber, leaving Paul alone and wide-awake once again. Or so he thought. Because, as he laid down on the couch and closed his eyes, he fell asleep only moments later, a smile still plastered on his features.

**~Sorry for the wait. Review please! (:~**


	5. Another Girl

**_But as from today, well, I've got somebody that's new. I ain't no fool and I don't take what I don't want, for I have got another girl._**

**_

* * *

_**

Paul woke up the next day to the sound of the television, the kettle boiling on the stove, and footsteps in the room next to his. At first, he thought it was another completely normal morning in his and Jane's house. But once he found he was sleeping on the couch, the previous night's events came rushing back in his head. He quickly stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Jackie was in a nightgown, evidently making tea.

"Oh, good morning, Paul." Jackie greeted as he walked in. "I made you some tea, if you want it."

Paul nodded his head. "Yes, please. Thank you." He sat down at the table, holding his head in his hands and watching her pour the tea.

"Nice hair you've got." Jackie said as she walked towards him with the cup.

Paul didn't even try to fix it. "I can just imagine."

"Are you safe to go home then?" she asked as she sat down beside him.

Paul shook his head. "Are you kiddin'? It hasn't even been a full day. I can't go back yet."

"Well you can't stay here forever." Jackie told him. "I have to spend some more time with my family since I'll be going away with you guys. I'll have to make up for the time I'm going to lose."

Paul shrugged. "I'll just move in with John until we leave. He doesn't live far from here and it's only two more days, I'm sure he won't mind too much."

"So you're not even going to see Jane before you leave?" she asked.

"I'll visit her...eventually."

She sighed. "Alright. But remember, I'd apologize if I were you."

"I'm going to have to apologize soon, anyway. I still have to pack and all my things are back at my place. I'm just going to talk this over with John." He said as he stood up. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

Jackie nodded. "Ok." She stood up, grabbed a paper and pen, and jotted down her number. "Try to call. Tell me how things go."

"Sure thing, luv." Paul leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Bye."

He could've sworn he saw Jackie blush. "Goodbye, Paul."

* * *

"I knew it! I knew your mum was a right nutcase."

"John!"

"Oh c'mon, Cyn. I got enough money to buy you a fuckin' country and she's goin' off on how all this is bad for you and Julian." John scoffed. He was lying on the couch, his legs resting where his back should be and his head hanging off the edge of the seat. He held the phone to his ear, talking to his wife since she was back in Liverpool with Julian visiting her mother.

"She's just worried for my safety. Your fans are too violent for her liking." Cynthia explained.

"I dunno about violent, but they sure are insane. But she should know all about insanity, shouldn't she?"

Cynthia sighed. "John, why are you always insulting my mother?"

"Because I made it a personal goal to reach at least 365 insults to her by the end of this year."

"Ha. Ha." She said sarcastically.

"Anyroad, how's Julian?" John asked. "Showing any signs of pure genius like his father or is it too early?"

"He's alright. Mum gave me a few of my brothers' old baby clothes to put on him. It looks adorable!"

"I'm sure it does." John said, studying his nails distractedly. The doorbell rang suddenly and his eyes were fixed immediately to the door. He wasn't expecting anyone, was he? "Hey, Cyn, there's someone here. I'll call you later, alright? Bye, luv." He put the phone down and stood up, making his way to the door. When he opened it, there stood the man that a few hours ago was keeping him from getting a proper sleep.

"Well, well. The ghost of Christmas past." John said as he caught sight of Paul standing at his doorway.

"Hi John, how are ya mate?" Paul greeted, a smile plastered on his face.

"Hmm," John narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't that sound familiar?"

Paul scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry 'bout wakin' you up last night..."

"Should be."

"So, I was just wondering..."

John scoffed. "Wondering, 'ey? Wondering why you always magically show up at my door when you need something?"

"I don't! I'm just wondering if I could, maybe, y'know...stay here for a while?"

He narrowed his eyes. "How long is a while?"

"Only until the tour starts..." Paul answered.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to go back to Jane."

John smirked. "What? Too pussy to go back?"

"No!" Paul sighed. "Just let me stay, ok? I'll deal with her some other time."

John shrugged. "Fine." He stepped aside to finally let Paul in the house.

Paul looked around the fairly large living room, plopping down on the couch and relaxing. "I hope you don't mind."

"I do mind. I'm just not sayin' anything." He answered, sitting down on the couch across from the other man.

"Well, ain't that a shame."

John watched him for a second before asking, "So what's going on with this bird you were talkin' about last night?"

"What about her?" Paul asked, looking over at his mate.

John shrugged. "Dunno. Knowing you, you probably did something stupid and got your arse kicked out from her house."

"No, John. That would be _you_, in this situation."

"Well? What happened?" He asked. "Shouldn't you be over there, shaggin' her senseless. Or are you just waitin' till the tour to do that?"

Paul shook his head. "The farthest I've gotten with her is a second-long kiss."

"NO!"

"Yes."

"You're jokin'."

"Nope."

John put on a posh accent. "By God, good sir. This is preposterous!"

"It is!" Paul said, then sighed. "But maybe it's for the better. Maybe I should just wait..."

"Waiting for sex?" John asked with a perplexed expression. "What's that?"

Paul chuckled shortly and later bit his lip. "Y'know. It's just...different."

"Nothing like this is ever 'different', Paul. This isn't some Audrey Hepburn movie."

"I know! It's just, well, y'know!"

John rolled his eyes. "No, I don't know. Why's this bird so important to you? She's no different from any other."

"You haven't even seen her."

John closed his eyes. "I could just imagine her now...Some big-busted, blonde, Marilyn Monroe wannabe with caked-on make-up and a dress ending at her crotch. That sum it up?"

Paul scoffed. "She's not some whore, John. Why do you think she's makin' me wait?"

John shrugged. "Look, I'd much rather you have some random chick following you around than that red-headed twat invading' the place."

"Well you don't have to worry about that 'cause she's not comin'."

"Oh happy day!" John sang.

Paul smiled and asked, "Why do you hate her so much?"

"Why do you like her so much? Or _did_, anyway."

"Hey, I don't hate her, y'know."

"Damn, my plans are foiled once again." John said.

"Guess so."

"And when do I get to meet this mystery woman?"

Paul stood up. "Probably when we're about to leave." He said as he walked to the kitchen and raided John's refrigerator.

"Oh yeah? And when does Brian get to meet her?" John asked from the other room.

Paul shrugged to himself. "I dunno, about the same time everyone else does, I guess."

John appeared suddenly beside Paul, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you kiddin' me? If Brian finds out last minute that you're bringin' some chick you picked up off the street, he'll butcher you like yesterday's cow."

"I doubt that."

"Oh do you, now? Fine, just don't come cryin' to me when he flips a shit."

Paul sighed. "Why do you think I woke you up at bleedin' 5 in the mornin'? I told you I needed someone to back me up!"

"I'm not Jesus, Paul. Close, but not quite."

"Oh c'mon, how hard can it be to convince him? It's just a girl." Paul said.

"Don't underestimate an angry Brian, son." John answered. "I heard fags get pretty darn nasty when pissed off."

"So you're saying I should just talk to him now?"

John nodded.

He thought for a moment and then sighed. "Alright."

"Good luck, mate." John said, smiling. "Bring me a souvenir from hell!"

"Oh, no," Paul began, grabbing his arm and heading for the door, "you're comin' along with me."

**~Ok, so you can definitely blame school for the unusually long wait. God, it's been months. Everyone probably gave up on this story by now but, hey, I started the chapter forever ago so I might as well finish it. So sorry again for the wait. I hope it doesn't happen again. Also, sorry if it sucked. It's 10:40 pm and I did much more than my body can handle today in gym alone. Oh and since I'm just the queen of apologies today, if I may add, I'm sorry for all the language. I reread it and thought some stuff was a bit...inappropriate. But that might just be me. Yeah, I'm gonna shutup now. Thanks for reading!~**


	6. It's Only Love

**_It's only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do?_**

**_

* * *

_**

Finally, John and Paul were positioned in front of Brian Epstein's front door. It was a nice front door, sort of a tan-ish white, with a nicely shaped doorknob and a welcome sign right in the middle. They studied this door for a while not because it was interesting, but because they were both too scared to knock on it.

"So...any ideas about what you're going to say, Macca?" John asked after a few minutes. Paul thought for a moment. He knew that if he were to ask Brian in the wrong fashion, he would be sure to say no. Not to mention the fact that arguing with Brian was nearly impossible. So he could either tell him straight out and hope for the best or not tell him at all.

"What do you think?"

"It's your problem, not mine." John said as Paul had expected him to.

He turned around. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..."

John grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Hey, you already dragged me all the way over here. You better think of something."

"But..." Paul began. This was not going as well as he had hoped. He felt so confident last night about taking Jackie to America with them, and he had already told her she was coming along. It would be a shame to not go through with it. "I don't know what to do."

John sighed. "Alright, just follow my lead, I got an idea."

Paul nodded. "Ok."

John finally knocked, or pounded for that matter, on Brian's door. They heard a loud 'coming!' and a few footsteps until the door swung open. There stood their manager, smiling at seeing the two Beatles. "Hello boys, what brings you here?"

John grinned. It was probably the best fake grin Paul had ever seen the lad do. "Hey Eppy, we're just here to visit. Can we come in?"

Brian's smile went from happy to immensely confused in a split second. Paul assumed he would be confused as well if John showed up at his door and actually acted polite. "Uh, sure. Of course." He said as he stepped aside to let them in.

They walked inside the house and Paul noted that it was _still_ the cleanest place he'd ever encountered, with the exception of his work desk which was piled with what seemed like thousands of papers. He and John went straight to his living room, as they always did, and sat on the couch. The television was showing the news which, thankfully, was not saying 'Beatles', 'Lennon', or 'McCartney' related anywhere.

"Do either of you want some tea?" Brian asked as they got comfortable.

"Yes, please." Paul said and John nodded along with him.

"Alright, I'll be back." He said before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Paul watched after him and, after he was gone, leaned in so John would be able to hear him. "So what's the plan, Lennon?" He whispered.

"Like I said, follow my lead." John answered as he picked up the paper. Once he saw four familiar faces on the cover, he threw it back carelessly on the table.

"How am I suppose to follow if I don't know what's going on?" Paul asked.

"That's why I'm leadin', you pillock." He said. "Just don't say anything stupid."

"Well, what's stupid in this situation?"

John gave an annoyed sigh. "Just don't mention the girl or about her coming along until I do so first, how 'bout that?"

"Sounds good."

They both laid back as Brian emerged from the kitchen with two cups of hot tea in his hands. He set the cups down and sat in the chair opposite to them. "There you are."

"Thanks, Brian. How've you been lately?" Paul asked, hoping John wasn't going to say something first. By the look on John's face afterwards, he probably was.

Brian sighed and put one leg over the other. "Frustrated, really. There's so much going on what with the tour and all that. I just want to get this thing over with and not have to worry about anything else." Paul bit his lip and looked over at John, but his face didn't show any reaction to what Brian said.

"And how about you lot? How've you been?" Eppy asked.

"Great." Paul answered, nodding his head.

Brian looked at John. "What about you? Cynthia back yet?"

John shook his head. "Nah, cunt of a mother won't let them leave."

Brian laughed. John shifted his position on the couch and cleared his throat. "But Paul here, he's been havin' some fun lately."

Paul looked over at John, whose expression was telling him to play along. "Oh, err, yeah."

"Really?" Brian said, looking rather intrigued. "How come?"

"Well he met this bird the other day, won't shut up about her. Pretty special, I suppose." John said. "Isn't that right, Paulie?"

"Uh, yeah, she is. Real sweet girl, I like her a lot."

Brian nodded. "That's nice. But what about Jane?"

Paul hesitated for a moment. Brian was a big supporter of his relationship with Jane. It brought a lot of good press to them both and, if the media found out they had a fight like this, they would be all over Paul. And that was something Brian couldn't bare to deal with. "Err, we're just spending some time apart."

"'Some time apart'? You two didn't fight, did you?" Brian asked, his features splashed with worry.

Paul looked over at John, who just motioned him to continue. "Well, sort of. But it wasn't that big of a deal."

Eppy sighed. "Paul, what did I tell you about those sorts of fights? If the press finds out..."

"But they won't. Remember that movie audition she wanted to go to over in Germany? Well, she chose to do that instead of coming with us. So the papers won't be catching us together for a very long time." Paul told him.

Brian shrugged. "Let's hope not."

"How about Paul's bird comes with us instead?" John suggested. "Y'know, to replace that fire-breathing cow of his." He said, nodding to Paul. So that was the grand plan? Well done, Paul thought.

"That would be a good idea. Cyn, Pattie, and Mo are all coming, why not her too? As a replacement?" Paul added, hoping to be able to convince him enough.

Brian looked from Paul to John, thinking about their sudden proposal. "I don't know boys. If the press sees that girl with you instead of Jane, they'd be sure to mix up some story..."

"Well, what if Paul didn't get so close to her?" John said. "She could just be some assistant or something. The press never saw her before, so they don't know who she is."

Brian thought for a moment. "Are you sure that would work?"

They both nodded.

He looked at Paul. "And you're sure that you won't make it seem like you two are an item during the tour?"

Paul nodded. "I'm an expert at fooling the press. I won't make them suspect a thing."

Brian sighed once again. "Let me think about it. It's only two days before we leave and I'd have to make arrangements with a lot of people if I just want to get this girl in. What's her name anyway?"

"Jackie." Paul said.

"Well, Jackie's gonna have to wait for a bit."

Paul smiled. "Alright, thanks Eppy."

"Wait, is that all?" Brian asked as he noticed they were getting up to leave.

"Oh, errm, yeah." Paul said as he rose from his seat.

"We're going to let you 'think about it' in peace." John said as he walked to the door with Paul trailing behind. "See you later."

"Bye." Brian said as the two lads stepped outside, door closing behind them.

They made their way to John's car and got inside, John laughing while starting the engine.

"What's so funny?" Paul asked, smiling at his sudden laughter.

"Did you see the way he was sitting? What a queer." John laughed, shaking his head.

Paul was laughing too, until something dawned on him. "Shit."

John almost stopped the car. "What?"

"My stuff, I have to pack." He answered.

"So?"

"All of my things are at my place...and Jane's there."

John rolled his eyes. "Just go get it then."

Paul looked at him as if he were insane. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he said, "just do what I do when Cyn and I get into a fight. Barge into the room, completely ignore her, get your things and then leave. Oh, and be sure to slam the door. It adds effect."

Paul scoffed. "You want me to follow the 'Lennon example', huh? How smart."

"It is smart, if I do say so myself."

Paul began to chew on his thumb nail. "Do you think Brian will let us bring Jackie along? Y'know, once he's done 'thinking about it' and all that crap."

John looked like he wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel. "Will you just shutup about her for a second? I'm sure he'll let her come. And if he doesn't, well then I won't have to deal with you two being lovey-dovey asses the whole tour. So either way, someone gains something."

Paul sat back and crossed his arms. "Fine."

But the more he thought of it, the more he knew they did a good job in convincing him. So there was an extremely high chance that she was indeed coming along. And as long as he made sure they didn't tick off the press about what was going on, then everything was going to be alright. And Paul was absolutely thrilled.

**~Hi everyone! Remember me? Probably not. But to whoever is reading this, thank you for still doing so. Be sure to review!~**


	7. For No One

**_Your day breaks, your mind aches, you find that all her words of kindness linger on when she no longer needs you..._**

**_

* * *

_**"…and she's just like, 'Oh, John! I'd love to get to know you better!' And I told her, 'Can you please get away from me?' But she didn't even move. And I even said please, y'know? I mean, really, you'd think being polite would be the key with these bitches, but I guess not. Then she got all offended, as if she _weren't _the most hideous bird I've ever encountered in my life, y'know? So, I tried to calm her down and she got all upset… Paul, are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" Paul said, finally switching his vision from the ground to John's face.

"I said, 'are you even listening to me?'" John repeated slowly, as if he were a child.

"Oh, yeah," he lied. "Something about birds…and keys…"

John sighed. "Yes, Paul, that's it. Birds and keys."

Currently, they were both relaxing on John's couch once again. John had managed to pack up all his things for the tour and now they were sitting there, talking about nothing while sharing a bottle of liquor John had found in the kitchen. Paul knew he should be heading to his house to pack as well, but he figured this to be much more soothing.

John continued with another story, something about Ringo and a lampshade, while he drew random doodles on a napkin. Paul was actually beginning to doze off until the noisy ringing of John's telephone disturbed him.

"Hello?" John said as he answered.

"Hello, John." Brian greeted from the other line.

"No, Brian. I will not take me pants off for you." John said, teasingly.

Brian sighed. "May I speak to Paul, please? He's with you, right?"

"Oh yes, he's here," John replied, "I am holding him captive for you, master."

Paul stood up and took the phone from him. "Hello?"

"Hi, Paul, how are you?" Brian asked.

"I'm just the same as I was an hour ago, Eppy," Paul chuckled. "What's goin' on? Any word on Jackie yet?"

"Yes actually. I talked to a few people and they told me we could squeeze in another person on the tour."

Paul's face lit up in excitement. "That's great!"

"However," Eppy began, "our original flight had no more seats left. So, seeing as you wanted this girl to come so badly, I rescheduled our flight."

"Alright, when's the new flight?" Paul asked.

"Tonight."

Paul's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"That's the only available flight to New York that would make it in time for your first show." Brian explained. "But we have everything ready, don't we?"

"Uh, yeah, of course…" Paul fibbed. "Are George and Rich ok with it, though?"

"Yes, I talked to them a while ago. They said it was fine." Brian said.

Paul sighed. "Alright, tonight it is. What time exactly?"

"Eleven o'clock, last flight out. We'll get there at 10.45, though."

"10.45," Paul repeated, "got it."

"Look, Paul, if it's not a good time we can just cancel…"

"No, no," he said, "I really want Jackie to come. Tonight's fine, I just need to pack." Paul said, looking over at the clock. He still had six hours.

"Alright, make it quick. I'll have the limo pick you boys up at approximately ten-thirty. Goodbye, Paul."

"Great. Bye, Eppy." Paul said and hung up the phone, sighing again.

"What was all that about?" John asked, his mouth full with the bowl of cornflakes he was eating.

"Brian rescheduled the flight so Jackie could come on." Paul told him.

"What time?"

"Eleven."

John rolled his eyes. "Fantastic, now I can't go see any strippers tonight because you want your stupid bird to come along."

"She's not stupid!" Paul shouted as he took the phone once again and dialed the number he so vividly memorized.

"Alright, alright. Christ…" John said as he took another bite of his cereal. The phone rang for a bit until Jackie finally picked up.

"Hello?" she greeted.

"Hi, Jackie."

"Paul? Hi! Any news?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, "you should probably pack now. We're leavin' at 10.30 to catch our new flight."

"10.30 tonight?" She asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I know it's a bit unexpected but it's the only flight that would let you on. There are no other planes with seats available that'll get us there in time." He clarified.

"Paul, I don't want to be a bother…"

"No, it's alright! You're not bothering anyone." Paul assured her, and he heard John scoff beside him.

"Are you sure?" she asked, a bit worried.

"I'm positive. I have to hurry and pack, but John and I will be over there in a bit."

He heard some shuffling and the television in the background. "Alright, I'll start now."

"Perfect. I'll be there in a few. Bye, luv." Paul said, then hung up the phone and turned to John. "Let's go."

"Where?" John asked, sounding annoyed.

"My house, I've got to get my things."

John shook his head. "I've already driven your lazy arse to Brian's, I'm not going to go all the way over to your place and risk my precious eyesight if I catch a glimpse of that cow."

"You don't have much of that eyesight to lose, anyway," Paul said, pointing to the horn-rimmed glasses he was wearing. "Besides, it'd be a shame if I had to go all alone…"

They stared at each other for a while. John had a face of pure defiance and Paul with a pleading look, pout included. Finally, John sighed and stood up. "You're such a girl, you know that?"

Paul smiled. "C'mon."

They both got into John's car and headed off to the middle of London, where he and Jane shared a house. As they drove slowly into the driveway, Jane's car was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Paul had a stroke of luck and Jane actually wasn't home? This thought made Paul much more tranquil than he had been previously.

He told John to wait in the car, for he would just pack up his things quickly, and he stepped out. Paul dug for his keys in his pocket but, seeing as he probably forgot to get them in his angered daze that night. So he bent down and looked under the mat for a spare, but could not find it. Shit, she probably took it out. Fair enough.

But Paul knew what to do. He always did this when he would sneak back into the house in the middle of the night after meeting up with his bandmates and some girls. He grabbed a hold of the fence at the side of his house and began to climb until he was standing at the very top. He looked over at John, who was giving him the most perplexed look from inside his car. Paul gave him a quick thumbs-up and continued, placing his foot on the windowsill and made his way up until he reached his bedroom window. He opened the window skillfully, careful not to fall, and made his way inside. He was so good at this.

Once inside, he closed the bedroom window and began to separate his clothes and belongings that he would need on this trip. He always obsessed about forgetting something, so he made sure to double check that he hadn't forgotten any items that he'd regret not bringing later on. After he was sure that he had everything, he walked outside of his bedroom, three suitcases in his hands, and whistling some stupid tune that was stuck in his head. He made his way slowly downstairs but soon stopped dead in his tracks. There she was, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, eyes piercing into his like knives.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jane hissed, her eyes never leaving his hazel ones.

"I'm just gettin' my things," Paul answered calmly. "Y'know, for the tour you're _not _coming on?"

"Thank God I'm not, too," she said. "Wouldn't want to be stuck with your selfish, inane attitude, would I?"

"_Oh no,_" Paul began sarcastically, "why hang around with a Beatle when you could be trying to make something of a barely existent career?"

Jane grew red with anger. She hated him at this point. "You're a bastard, Paul McCartney!"

Paul laughed cruelly. "Aren't I? Maybe you should go and get yourself a sweet little nobody from your worthless movie set, instead!"

"I'd rather have a 'nobody' than someone who's as much of an arsehole as you!"

"Oh yeah?" He said, his perfectly shaped eyebrows rising in amusement. "Well you'll have plenty of chances where you're going, sweetheart. No one in that cast is getting anywhere, anyway."

Jane clenched her teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well that's typical. Most useless girls like you aren't even aware that they have no talent whatsoev-"

SMACK.

Paul's hand shot to his stinging cheek. There was a heavy silence as they both watched each other in fury. The only thing that broke the stillness was the repeated sound of John's car horn as it filled their ears. Paul turned and walked out the door, making sure to slam it on his way out. Paul shoved his suitcases into the back of the car and got into the passenger's seat without a word.

"Finally! What took you so damn long? And what the hell happened to your face?" John asked as he turned to look at him. Paul didn't answer. He didn't even look at him, only out the window.

"So, I'm guessing she was in there?" John asked.

No answer.

"Are you not gonna say anythin'?"

Silence.

John sighed. "Seriously, Paul, don't stress about this. You guys have had plenty of fights before."

"Not like this." Paul uttered.

John made an attempt not to scoff. "Alright. Do you want to head to that girl's house now, then?"

Paul nodded and gave him the directions to her residence.

"Really, don't worry about it," John told him halfway through the trip, noticing his dreadful silence. "It'll all work out eventually."

Paul wasn't too convinced about that, but he sure hoped so. He was worrying too much about this whole thing; it was practically invading his mind. They'd had fights before, but what just happened back at the house was not normal. He looked at his watch. At least he would be escaping this whole thing in a few hours, promising himself he wouldn't dare think about it during the tour as much as he had been the past day or so. At least he wouldn't have to see _her _for a good period of time.

At least he had Jackie.

~**I can't thank you (yes you!) enough for reading this. Please review, it just makes my day!~**


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